inez malstom

being the embodiment of earthly punishments
used to bother
inez malstrom
but now she gets a slight high
just thinking of it
a case of the giggles even
sometimes
she thinks it would be nice
for once
to be an earthly reward…
but that is probably reserved for someone named
jillian.

i have written so many beginnings to stories. you never know. i might finish it…turn it into a comic, a short story, or even a novel, but for now it lives as a journal page.

i think i recently read in a book a quote by a poet to the effect of: i write instead of screaming
for the life of me i cannot access where i read this. i have been reading a lot of books lately.
nevertheless–this is true for me. my writing & my art are what i do to keep from losing my mind. so i take these dark little thoughts and try to make something beautiful (?) out of them…or at least something interesting.

a horse called fury

i am not a martyr
for my cause
i am not
going to suffer
so you can
live
without sin
i will ride in
on a horse called fury
i will swing
my sword
indiscriminately
&
i will
burn
this motherfucker
down.

you will all be relieved to hear i was able to download more criminal minds after i figured out that the site i use had changed addresses & i was following a dead link…. yup.
in last night’s watched episode, my favorite character (dr. reid) said, “everything falls apart…the trick is letting go.”
which i’m sure he was saying right to me–yes?
it feels to me like i am often watching everything fall apart.
add in trying to figure out who i really am…am i a good person? or am i a serial killer who just has not yet been triggered? i honestly lean more to the latter these days.
i am exhausted by thoughtless people.

speaking of! i am playing with two new ideas for comics.

the invisibles

and the misanthropic philantropist

get the flock outta here

a wolf
but not in sheep’s clothing
(they itch too much)
a wolf trapped
in a pasture
letting the grass grow long
to the disgust
of the flock
hiding in the flowers
that the neighbor sheep
long to mow down
a wolf
in plain view
terrified of being noticed
of being
chastised & condemned
for being
who she
is.

(this is about me)
i’m freaking out about city ordinances & the fact that i really just don’t fit in. i grew up in a small town. i suffered for it. so now i move into an even smaller town?
maybe it will all be okay.
but, meanwhile, i am going to be hiding in plain sight, having some panic attacks and visions of angry mobs.

contrast

i am a spark of light
in a clay pot
i am my own prison
my own fortress
i am proud of my
heavy thickness
it keeps me safe
i am ashamed
of my
heavy thickness
it holds me back
i want to break out
of me
i want to hide away
inside me
i am lightening
in a bathtub
putting out my own
fire.

i was hoping to express something deep here. a feeling. the struggle i have inside me…with me. both physical & emotional.
i’m not sure i was successful.

i do like my illustrations lately though. i feel like i am doing some character development. building up to something new.

for what it’s worth

“what will you do for money?”
the question asked
when i quit my last “real” job
“i’ll get by on my good looks,”
is the answer given
“what do you do?”
“where do you work?”
“who’s your employer?”
n/a
i scribble
or
i’m a writer
i’m an artist
i’m a mother
(aka i have no income)
what is money
really
what is worth
what am i worth
to you
with no employer
with do husband
do i
still matter?

i decided at a very young age that i did not want to be part of the rat race. i watched my parents work full time & come home to watch tv. go to bed. wake up. do it all over again. buying expensive toys. worrying about money. never being happy or satisfied worrying about what they did not have….
i have worked many many many jobs. i have supported myself and still done what i want to do. i never really joined the rat race…. then i had a baby, fully intending to go back to work, but realizing that being a mom was what i wanted to be doing.
except that doesn’t pay. it’s not worth anything to anyone other than the mom & the child…& eventually society if the child becomes a functional & thriving member of said society…but, no, not worth anything.
so i became good at not spending money.
and good at not making money.
but still i have to answer this question. “what do you do?” as if it defines me.
i am a mother, artist, and a writer.
does it matter?

storytime

at 12
i decided to be a novelist.
i was sure
i would be famous
by my 20’s.
at 28
i rediscovered my love
of writing comics
i was no longer so sure
i would be
famous
but at least
i would be having a good time
at 50
i finally published my first book
followed by another
before i turn
51.
first a book of comics
then a book of short stories
next
a novel?
a collection of art?
it seems
i finally
have
my momentum.

buy my book of comics–“confusion perfume”–the story of a single woman & her dog (not cathy) as well as a sampling of other neurotic comics.
buy my book of short stories & flash fiction–tangled together–stuff i have been working on (or hiding in a trunk) for the past 30 years.
write me kind reviews & wait with bated breath for my next literary contribution.

confusion perfume & other neurotic comics on amazon
tangled together on amazon
tangled together on lulu
tangled together on barnes & noble
tangled together the ebook

or message me for an autographed copy 🙂
all this info is also available on my “love for sale” page

heavenly horses

so the story goes, in 1994 i was in virginia attending hollin’s university when one day i was on a walk and found a horse tangled up in barbed wire. the horse actually called me over to it & waited patiently as i untangled it. i knocked on the door of the house i assumed it belonged at, but there was no answer. i wanted to make sure someone knew this horse might need more attention, so i found the stable manager for hollin’s university and told her.
her answer was, “you will get your reward in heaven.”
over the years, i have never forgotten those words. as a pagan, i often turn them over in my mind…trying to understand what they mean.
i have actually used them on my children at times as it sounds like some weird brush off for an over-eager attention seeker…& it makes me laugh to say it.
lately i have started thinking about doing a story called riding horses in heaven loosely based on this.
now i am thinking it will be a graphic novel.
i have started doodling my heavenly horses….

episode three of moses jones

so i am trying to streamline my site. i am down to four pages. AND i updated my mojo page with episode three. so for those of you who have been waiting with bated breath….
those of you waiting for episode four…hmmm. i’m not sure…but when i do get to working on it, i will be posting new pages here as i shut down my patreon site.

make believe

i might be a fictional character
everything about me
a story
i told
after so many stories
how do i know
if i am real
or make
believe.

i am trying to play around with my art…venture away from my portraits a bit. i am finding clarity more again now so i am hoping i can step away from the constant journaling to work on some projects, like–hey! remember moses jones?
also i want to work on turning the story i started developing “stolen” into a longer piece.
plus i need to work more on my novel in progress: a better life through sock puppets….

horse of a different color

i’m okay
written in the window of a haunted house
i’m okay
on a chalkboard during a zombie apocalypse
the boat sank; i’m okay
the train crashed; i’m okay
the volcano erupted; i’m okay
from rooftop to rooftop
from treetop to mountaintop
i’m okay
whether you are asking or not
i’m okay.

that’s a switch, right? i’m admitting that i am okay. and i have some warrior chick riding a panda. i want to start moving back towards comics. i think that’s where this image came from. when i go to illustrate a page, i empty my mind & wait. if nothing appears, i just start inking. however, many times, with enough meditation, i find the image i want–in this case–lady panda warrior.

(first page of a new journal)

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